Happy Bloody Christmas, Severus Snape!

Hermione reached out, her hand brushing against the cool blankets where Severus’ body should have been. Despite his blunt words about forgiveness and marriage, the man hadn’t come to bed. She should have known that Severus Snape would not try to seduce her while she was out of sorts, he was more noble than that, but that he would rather be anywhere but in his own bed next to her was dismaying. He had asked her to be his wife, was this what marriage between them would be like? Waking up alone, wondering where her husband was, if he was with someone else. Severus had claimed to know the body of no other woman, but a man had his needs, and he was if anything a man.

“Severus?” she called out. Her voice bounced off the stone walls, but was met by no response.

The room was devoid of anything that belonged to him: no socks on the floor, no robes thrown haphazardly over the chair, no shoes. She wondered if the proposal had been some dream that her hysterical mind had come up with. Going back to Ronald and trying to convince him the child was his had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever have to do. Over the holiday she’d sworn never to take a step back like that again, but then she hadn’t counted on finding out she was pregnant.

The idea of a baby had brought her such joy, at least until she remembered that the father wouldn’t want either of them. The wizarding world frowned upon single-mothers and father-less children, in that singular instance Ron had been correct. Hermione had done the only thing she could think of at the time, she’d begged Ron to take her back, promised to do whatever he wanted if only he would claim the child as his. The following months had been like torture. She’d been locked in her own house, a prisoner: no friends, no visits with her family, with only Ron’s overbearing mother to talk to. Since the pregnancy Molly Weasley had been even more pushy, excusing her son’s abusive behavior as loving, trying to make Hermione believe she had been in the wrong.

But Hermione was not crazy, she knew being stuck in that house meant one thing, and so she had seized the chance offered by Ginny to return to the castle for her spring break. The truth was Ronald had not allowed her to return to school for weeks now. He feared her meeting up with the boy who’d knocked her up, and since she wouldn’t disclose his identity Ron claimed he had no choice but to stop her from attending altogether.

“Severus?” she called out again, this time from the doorway. A hand appeared over the side of the couch, then a bare arm, and finally she came close enough to see his face. Severus looked even worse than she felt. His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept very long, and his hair was dishevled. If she had to take a guess, Hermione would say he had run his hands through it a great many times. She couldn’t help wondering though which had upset him more: that he thought the child was not his, or that he simply did not want to be married to her.

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Severus covered her trembling hands with his own, and pulled her down onto the couch beside him. It was hard to describe what he was feeling, but Severus imagined it was nothing compared to the fear that must have forced her back into the arms of that fool. Or away from the mystery man that had begotten this child. Despite all this he was at a loss at what to say. The entire situation was surreal, and not what he had expected when Ginerva had informed him Hermione was coming home. Home, he had wanted to surprise her with the newly revitalized Spinner’s End. He’d done the carpentry himself, most of it anyway, with little assistance from the house elves. He’d even transformed his childhood room, a place of such misery and anguish, into a nursery for their future children. Of course, he hadn’t expected it to be used so soon, there were still many things they would need to buy. ‘If she says yes’ he reminded himself.

“Severus, are you angry? About the baby” she asked flatly.

He could tell from the way she avoided his gaze that she had prepared herself for the worst. And maybe once upon a time, long before he met her, he would have torn her apart for such betrayal. That day however the unquenchable anger disappated into something calmer, something controllable, hurt.

“Am I angry, Hermione, that I pushed you into the arms of someone else?” He paused. “I am angry, but angry at myself. As for the baby I will not lie and say it doesn’t bother me that she belongs to someone else, but it is something I am willing to look past. If you chose to be my wife, I would raise her like my own, and I would expect no more would be said of it.”

Severus took their entwined hands and placed it over her growing mound with care. He hadn’t had much experience with children, but he was sure he’d heard Ginerva saying something about babies being aware of their surroundings. Hermione was his heart, and that made her child his too in a way, if not of his flesh and blood then of his heart.

“Severus” she whispered, pulling him closer, “are you sure you can raise another man’s child? In the muggle world it is frowned upon, but in the wizarding world…I’ve heard it’s practically taboo. And what would your friends think?”

Severus chuckled, the dizzying feeling of relief spreading through him. Hermione would say yes, she was just overthinking his well-being. As a Gryffindor he supposed reputation was extremely important, as it was in Slytherin, but he didn’t care and told her so.

“When have you ever known me to have friends?” he kissed her bare shoulder softly. “Does all this prattle mean you’ve decided? I’ve waited a very long time for you witch”

For a second it was as if she had never left his side. During their extremely brief courtship she and Severus had always been involved in some moral debate or another, usually over the honorable thing to do. More often than not Severus had mocked her standards of honor, but today he had surpassed them. Hermione could not kid herself into believing that she wasn’t in love with Severus, she only hoped that one day he would love her too. This didn’t mean however that she intended to be a push-over, she was a Gryffindor after all.

“Really, Severus, four months? A very long time? You Slytherins always exaggerate,” she teased, tugging at a strand of his hair. She watched his lips curl into that delicious smile that was reserved only for her. Gods how she had missed this man.

“And you Gryffindors always stall. Hermione Granger, know-it-all extrodinare, will you do me the honor of being my wife or won’t you?”

Hermione watched him reach into his robes, pulling out the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. Severus had remembered how she adored princess cut, and white gold, but he’d picked something she wouldn’t have ordinarily considered for herself. The past, present, and future, all done up into one thin band that made her hands look slender despite the weight she’d gained from the pregnancy. It was all she could do to hold herself together, not that it took much to get her crying these days. It was obvious Severus had put effort into finding the perfect ring. ‘Which means he planned on proposing to us before he found out’ her mind whispered.

“I will” she said softly.

Severus leaned over slowly, giving her time to pull away, pleasantly shocked when she leaned forward for his kiss. Suddenly it felt like everything was going to be alright.